Five Minutes For Rosalie
by FrenchCaresse
Summary: High intensity multi-chapter oneshot. An established D/s relationship gets taken to a new level. MATURE READERS ONLY. Contains public play, breath-play, mind-fuck and chastity cage usage.
1. Scene 1: Chapter 1

_Hi guys! First off, let me say that I was in a blah-uninspired-not-creative place these last few months and I didn't read or write at all. But now I have the writing bug again!_

_Back in the summer, I promised a oneshot that got out of hand and now wants its own story. Well, this is it. It is NOT Headward. Nor is it for the faint of heart. _

_Seriously._

_This is a high intensity piece that touches on the **darker side.** Please HEED THE WARNINGS. __**MATURE READERS ONLY.**__ Contains breath-play, mind-fuck, chastity device use in an established D/s relationship._

_DO NOT READ THIS AT WORK__. Or on your mobile on the subway. This is not a piece that you read with your favorite mug of tea. It needs a good glass of red wine. And possibly a vibrator for afterwards. Just sayin'. Read at your own risk._

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_**IT SEEMS I HAVE LOST MY BETA.** _

_Or anyway, she hasn't been answering my e-mails and after a month I decided to post unbeta'd. Real life happens, I understand. But I feel uneasy posting unbeta'd. If one of you guys feels inclined to Beta for me, I would greatly appreciate it. The first part of this one-shot is fully written. And there are three-four chapters of Headward left to write.** PM me if you are interested.**_

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EPOV

He shouldn't have pushed it.

Edward shook the hair from his eyes and tried to calm himself.

It was his fault.

You didn't push Rosalie.

Edward knew that. He only ever put his foot down on matters of life and death. Rosalie didn't react well to being pressured.

You _especially_ didn't push Rosalie because she was also Mistress Rose, the dominatrix who gladly inflicted all manner of punishment on your bound body.

Edward vainly readjusted the knot of his tie and shuffled his feet.

Not here though. These different circumstances were what caused his stomach to tighten anxiously. Here, he wasn't a slave boy strapped to a leather sling or kneeling patiently; living_, breathing_ only to please his Mistress.

Here, at the opening night of the painting exposition at their friend Alice's gallery, he wasn't sub Eddie, plugged and paddled.

This was real life.

Here he was Doctor Edward Cullen, brilliant neurosurgeon and author of several well-received articles detailing innovative operating strategies.

He was expected to smile, shake hands with all the right people, compliment the mayor's wife on her work with orphan children and pretend he knew what the fuck he was talking about as he stared at the splashes of decidedly dark and depressing color mounted to the walls.

J. Whitlock. Quite the bright-shining artist of the moment, trendy in all the right circles and apparently devastatingly charming.

Fidgeting in the shadows, Edward stuck a hand into his pocket just to press his shaky fingertips to the hard plastic nestled around his cock.

Edward wasn't quite sure how he felt about the cock cage. Maybe he hated the chastity device for the dull ache it caused; his dick kept swelling and pressing at the slits, trying continuously to get hard.

Maybe he hated what it signified -Rosalie's absolute hold over him. Erections were so strong, so decidedly _male_, even from a submissive. And now he couldn't get hard, because Rosalie had decided it. Rosalie had decided to reduce his masculinity to leaky pinkness, helplessly trapped behind clear PVC.

Edward's conflicted emotions toward the cock cage stemmed from this point exactly. Some part of him _liked_ having Rosalie in charge.

Maybe some subconscious part of him was comforted by having his release, even his arousal placed in the control of another. If the physical discomfort was easily tolerable, the primal distress of having his manhood demolished wasn't. There was a primitive instinct to grab at himself, a need to touch his cock and feel it grow that lurked right below the surface of his control.

It was unsettling not to be hard when he was aroused, when he wanted to be hard, when he _should have been_ hard.

Edward could feel the sweat beginning to prickle under his arms. It was only five minutes. He could hold out for five minutes.

_Five minutes._

It became his mantra, his lifeline.

Edward had found a foothold in the swirling panic.

_Five minutes._

He could do five minutes out in public with the cock cage.

Edward swallowed hard, just for the rush it caused.

Felt the panic swirling up, clashing waves of instinctive fear muddling with desire.

Felt the unyielding band that wrapped around the base of his neck.

Tight.

So tight.

Almost _too_ tight!

Edward swallowed again, feeling his throat work, circled by the stiff black leather collar.

Felt the cold clenching of fear in his middle. He couldn't breathe!

_Couldn't breathe, couldn't breathe. _Fuck!

Chest expanding and falling rapidly, Edward lost his fragile foothold for a few seconds.

Already, he was light headed; hyperventilating and dizzy, so close to being overwhelmed. Choked sounds tore from his throat as adrenaline raced through his veins. Mindlessly, Edward tried to breathe deeply, breathe faster.

He leaned clumsily against the wall. Fuck.

He couldn't panic.

Even if the collar was cinched in punishment. Tight.

So tight.

Almost _too _tight!

_Can't breathe can't breathe can't breathe can't breathe._

Five minutes, Edward reminded himself.

He could do five minutes.

Edward forced himself to superficial calm, made himself breathe slowly and shallowly even if thousands of years of evolution demanded he do the opposite.

Short little pants; that was the only way.

Unclenching his fists, Edward felt some of the wooziness fade as he forced himself to maintain the serene rhythm.

Objectively, Edward knew he wasn't actually strangled. The collar lightly restricted the expansion of his neck.

It was enough.

It was too much. His imagination and runaway fantasies took over and he skated on the edge of safe-wording.

_Five minutes._

Fuck, it was risky. Breath play was a deeply ingrained kink of his, drawing intense response from some dark part of him he didn't care to analyze. Rosalie didn't often indulge him. And now to ask him to go out in public like this, teetering on the boundary of control… She was pushing him.

Pushing the limits of Edward's self control.

Pushing the limits of their relationship.

Edward seriously doubted his ability to fake it in a situation like this. Playing out of the bedroom… That was a first. Dangerous. A lot was at risk; his career, his reputation. And for Rosalie to start it off with a chastity device and a collar…

This was no tentative first-time easing into playing in the real world. This was like diving in head first, and blindfolded too.

But Rosalie wasn't a ''tentative easing'' kind of mistress.

And Edward trusted her.

After the past two years, she had seen all of him. Every hidden fault-line, she had blown open. Rosalie had seen him, at his best and at his worst.

Just as he had peered deep into her soul.

And if Rosalie thought this was right, if she thought he could do this, then he would.

Even if he doubted himself.

She believed.

It was enough.

_Five minutes._

Edward straightened his back, convinced. He could maintain the precarious balance for five minutes.

Five minutes_. For Rosalie._

Stepping out of the shadows and into the gallery proper, Edward's belly lurched uneasily; it settled when he spotted his mistress across the room.

Just the sight of her brought him comfort.

Her graceful curves beckoned. She wasn't even checking to see if he obeyed her command, observing a monstrous metal sculpture that looked like a cross between a grasshopper and a refrigerator.

One last insufficient breath and Edward made his slow way to the nearest painting.

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_So, that's a start. Remember the warnings? Kinky -darker side -MATURE READERS -breath-play -mind-fuck -chastity device -established D/s relationship... This is just the intro. Continue knowing it will get a lot more intense..._

**_AND AGAIN: I REALLY NEED A NEW BETA. IF YOU ARE INTERESTED PM ME!_**


	2. Scene 1 : Chapter 2

_Okay, so twice in the same day, huh? What can I say, I have a hard time keeping fully written chapters from you guys. Although I know it would help me get more readers to drag it out..._

_This chapter is a bit of back-story, to help answer all the questions you have about Edward and Rosalie's relationship. Even so, it is still** RATED M.** **Kinky adults** only. Because there is nothing innocent about this piece. **NSFW**. In fact, Never Safe for work, actually. It's just THAT kind of story._

_Oh, and still **unbeta'd,** because I haven't found a new one in the four hours since I posted chapter one! lol_

_Anyone interested?_

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RPOV

The relief that flooded Rosalie when Edward made his tentative way out into the gallery was so strong she almost sank to the floor.

He'd done it.

Thank God!

Rosalie had been a twisted jagged knot of nerves… inside. Of course, she didn't allow her anxiety to show. To Edward, she was completely, icily, in control.

She had to be.

It was the only way this would work.

If Edward had sensed even a_ hint_ of doubt from her, he would have balked. Every inch of her had been Mistress Rose, from her perfectly coiffed bun down to her toenails. She had to be.

Edward was… different…from her other subs.

Their relationship was different.

For one thing, Rose and Edward had grown up together. Well, not exactly, but they _had_ revolved in the same pretentious patrician circles since childhood. And at adolescence, when they had rebelled against those same conceited upper-class ideals, they had been part of the same group of friends.

They had never been close, but still- they had been _present_ in each other's lives_._ Edward had been lounging on the floor of Aro's basement when Rosalie had gotten drunk for the first time. And Rosalie had been sitting in Caius's lap when a red-eyed Edward had been completely stoned out of his mind for the first time.

So even if they never spoke of it, there was a familiarity that sprang from years of knowing each other.

High school had ended in what seemed the blink of an eye, and so had that relaxed, gang-oriented period.

Rosalie had stopped fooling around and got her act together.

Years had passed and Rosalie hardly ever thought of her teenage friends, except with vague distaste.

And then, two years ago, Rosalie had stumbled onto Edward and it had been like a slap to the face. At least, it could easily have been- a slap to _Edward's_ face.

By that time, Rosalie was already a well established Dominatrix. She excelled at it, like whatever else she did. She had been hurrying to catch a metal-smith about a custom set of manacles at a private party.

She had nearly tripped over Edward, kneeling on all fours in the middle of the room.

Naked and head down, properly submissive.

She had recognized him instantly, despite the ten-plus years that had elapsed since the last time she'd seen him. His pale gangly teenager body had firmed and muscled considerably. But his hair…

Edward's hair had always been unique. A shocking explosion of brown interspersed with copper. A decade later, it was still just as thick and shiny, only moderately more tame.

Rosalie had bit down her initial impulse to apologize.

It wouldn't do.

She was a Domme, she didn't apologize.

Instead, she had stepped around to his front and twisted her fingers into his hair. Hard. And stuck her red leather boot inches from his face.

''Apologize for tripping me.'' She had hissed. And he had immediately leaned down and kissed her boot, as though it really were his fault- even if he'd been stationary and she was the one who hadn't looked where she was going. That was the fucked up world of D/s.

Seeing Edward bowed at her feet had felt… right.

And while Edward had remained perfectly behaved, Rosalie had savored the shiver that ran down his spine, the tension in his fore-arms. Potential…

Potential, like the angry red mark on Edward's pale thigh where her boot had accidentally dug into him. Mistress Rose had ignored the thrill of pleasure that squirmed up her belly at the possibilities.

She'd stepped away, and it could have ended there. Edward hadn't seen her face, only her boot.

But it was too late already. Rosalie had been magnetized, placing herself at the back of the small circle that had formed around what turned out to be a public showing.

She'd observed Edward with his pretty Mistress, Angela, and that had sealed their fate. She'd HAD to play with Edward for real. Despite his perfectly obedient manner, Rosalie could tell some part of Edward was still in control of himself.

He was topping from the bottom, and the challenge pulled at Rosalie. She wasn't a beginner, like Angela.

She'd NEEDED to work him; needed to mold him. She'd needed to make him lose the calm controlled manner he wore to work every day- because _she knew she could_.

Their first experience scening had confirmed her instincts; they _worked _together. Somehow, they morphed into more; more than their usual selves. More than the sum of their actions. D/s wasn't forced and contrived between Edward and Rosalie; it was as natural as breathing.

It was almost like Edward had a dual personality. Dr Edward was a man you looked to, a natural leader. But push him the right way, nudge at his fantasies, add a carefully dosed amount of pain and Edward's character blossomed into the most beautiful submission… Rosalie shivered.

It wasn't surprising, actually, that Edward needed it as much as she did, needed to let go of his responsibilities once in a while.

Over the next two years, Edward and Rosalie had grown to mean a lot to each other… Through intermittent scening, then gradually more and more regular play, even the occasional week-end, their relationship had grown and hardened into something solid.

Something deep and trusting.

Something dependable.

No matter what happened in both their professional lives, there was always their secret escape world to fall back on, to hope for. A world of black and white, where each role was predetermined and it was reassuring to know, for once, what was expected of you.

Not that they had fallen into routine!

Edward was a challenge to keep in submissive mode, and needed to be unbalanced to give his best performance. It kept Rosalie on her toes and was quite stimulating.

Tonight was an example of trying new things.

Except tonight hadn't been planned...

Rosalie couldn't really say why she'd asked Edward to wear the collar to the inauguration night of Jasper's exposition.

Maybe it was because they had just finished a particularly long and satisfying session.

Or maybe it was seeing Edward stepping out of the shower in her bathroom. Getting ready together was such a mundane moment_, intimate_.

Maybe it was some left over pride, a need to claim Edward as her own in more than her private playroom that had prompted her gesture.

For whatever reason, without thinking, Rosalie had reached for the black leather collar on the vanity and spontaneously placed it back around Edward's neck, where it had looked so right moments ago.

Edward had stiffened immediately, and time had stood still.

Rosalie could read the battle in his eyes. A flash of fear, the doubt, the yearning to please; Edward's take-charge public persona warring with his natural submissive.

''You will wear it tonight.'' Rosalie's voice had been soft, yet it didn't question. She was Mistress Rose and she stated her command as such.

Edward had hesitated way too long, unconsciously chewing on his bottom lip and she had permitted it. This wasn't in the dungeon, and by now Rosalie understood exactly how much Edward stood to lose if his private kinks were exposed.

Edward had ranked public play as a red light when they'd been getting to know each other. And Rosalie had respected this… till now. Tonight though, it had felt right to have him wear her collar out, under his shirt. Maybe they should re-evaluate that list… It had been elaborated what seemed like such a long time ago.

Now that she knew Edward so much better, Rosalie felt sure he would enjoy playing a bit with an unknowing public; Edward was so deeply exhibitionist. The thrill of possibly getting caught…

Besides, Rosalie had pushed through her own limits for him-yet more proof the list was outdated.

Breath play was something that irked her considerably; the potential harm, the responsibility, the risk of possibly even killing a sub were just too much for her.

And yet Edward loved it, yearned for it, craved it; had begged and begged until after much research, she had accepted to try.

For him.

It had led to some very interesting and hot scenes, and Mistress Rose had grown from them.

She still saved breath-play for special reward sessions though.

This reflection ran through Rosalie's mind as she waited in the steamy bathroom, holding the collar; giving Edward the time he needed to decide if he wanted to back out from a new adventure.

A thrill of pride shot straight through her middle, almost overwhelming emotion surging when he'd finally looked down, whispering ''Yes, mistress.''

She'd buckled the simple black band, then kissed Edward fiercely. Already, the lust was back. And soon Edward was kissing her just as ferociously, his growing arousal nudging into her inner thigh.

And from that easy kiss, Rosalie could tell Edward wasn't completely in his submissive mindset. The decision to go out with the collar was completely consensual. Somehow, the kiss was firmer, more demanding than those they usually shared. His tongue pushed into her mouth, his hands reached to cup her back and press her softness to him.

It was thrilling in a way. Edward had a reputation of being quite a skillful lover. Rosalie had never known him that way, despite having had sex with him for over two years. Their relationship was always a power play, unbalanced; satisfying in its own way. Now though, Rosalie caught a hint of what being in bed with Dr Cullen would be like, equal lovers.

And found herself growing surprisingly wet, surprisingly fast.

When she broke the kiss, Rosalie ignored her hard nipples and occupied her hands by carefully tugging Edward's white shirt onto his broad shoulders. With a soft bite to his firm chest, she began buttoning the shirt. The bottom button, where she started, was distractingly close to Edward's cock, which hung heavy and gently down-curved. It was a relief to move up the shirt, feeling Edward's eyes burning into her, acutely aware of every innocent brush against the hot flesh of his belly. Rosalie concentrated on the hard plastic circles, Edward's intense stare trying to sap the dexterity from her fingers. Gods, this was somehow more erotic than the countless times she had ripped his clothes off! Edward's chest heaved even as he remained perfectly still. He was trained so well…

Finally, Rosalie reached her collar, and left the top button of Edward's shirt undone. The crisp shirt collar fell open just a bit, a small shadow of black leather barely visible.

With a satisfied smile, Rosalie fled from the humidity of the bathroom to finish dressing.

And also to push herself back into her Domme personae, it wouldn't do for Edward to realize Rosalie's knees had turned to jelly.

The evening would have been perfect if it had ended there. Edward would have worn her collar and they would have both thrilled at the secret knowledge. The night would have ended in phenomenal sex.

But no.

When Rosalie had returned to the bathroom to do her make-up, wearing her skirt and bra, Edward had been like a kid in the cookie jar. She had walked in on him, fully dressed. His shirt was buttoned, all the way to the top, completely hiding the black leather beneath. Edward was still fussing with the shirt collar.

It was unacceptable.

Not the act itself; the thought behind it.

It was a rebellion; Edward was working to find ways around her direct order, ways to hide what she had explicitly demanded after he'd agreed to it.

The guilt had been obvious as he jumped, dropping his hands as if burned.

Rosalie had reacted without too much thought then.

This was outright mutiny!

It required punishment.

Grabbing Edward's ear, she had dragged him to her bedroom, eliciting a satisfying yelp when she yanked him face-first onto the bed. This was not where they played, this was her personal space, but now was not the time for details.

Edward had landed with a whimper, staring wide-eyed over his shoulder. Rosalie smacked his plump ass, hard. Edward jerked and wiggled a bit, moaning. ''I'm sorry Mistress, I'm sorry Mistress.''

''You deserve to hurt, defying me like that.''

Edward had flinched at her words, but didn't protest. Rosalie could see the tension slowly running out of him as he calmed into submission.

She had ordered simply; ''When I return, you will have removed your pants.''

Edward's ''Yes, mistress'' was so perfectly obedient it made Rosalie's nipples tighten -again. Fuck, they were good together. But there wasn't any time.

In the playroom, Rosalie had looked through all her drawers, searching for inspiration. She'd toyed with a posture collar, but it was too much. Edward would safe-word if she tried to make him go out in it.

Go out in it…

That had been the beginning of her plan. Edward was nervous about wearing her collar in public. Yet he loved her collar, loved her hold over him, and especially loved anything around his neck that choked him.

Rosalie could utilize the collar to her advantage; tightening it just a bit more than usual would be enough. She knew Edward well; he would be incapable of focusing on anything else. It was the perfect plan.

Edward would be hard. So hard. So fucking hard. Anything relating to asphyxiation was an instant unavoidable turn-on for her sub.

But Rosalie couldn't permit him to be obviously bulging his dress pants in pubic, or he might refuse to participate.

And then the chastity device had seemed to jump out of the drawer at her.

* * *

_An interesting start, I'd say… And I hope this bit helped you see where things stand! The first part of this piece is complete and should post fairly quickly. It's just not fair to draw it out._

_...and, uh, **still needs a Beta!**_

_See you soon!_

_xxx_

_FrenchCaresse_


	3. Scene 1: Chapter 3

_Right, so Rosalie was about to punish Edward…_

_You do remember the warnings, right? Because they still apply. NO **UNDERAGE READERS.** Only kinky adults. Seriously.** Under 18 LEAVE** RIGHT NOW. Go do your homework or I'll tell your Ma your reading porn._

_Still unbeta'd, so blame me if stuff isn't as clear as it should._

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RPOV

When Rosalie returned to the bedroom, Edward was kneeling naked; arms clasped behind his back, eyes properly downcast. He had assumed position unbidden. He was trying to make atonement, to get back into her good graces- more evidence that he felt guilty.

''On the bed.''

Rosalie savored the simple grace as Edward rose and crawled over the grey sheets to lie on his stomach, watched the way the muscles in his ass moved.

She dragged her nails hard down his back, watching new red streaks appear among the partly faded marks from their earlier session.

Edward made no sound but he stopped breathing, and his hips rocked just a bit, pressing his dick into the mattress. He was obviously expecting a paddling, or perhaps a whipping of some sort.

Reluctantly, Mistress Rose ordered.

''Turn over.''

She had to stop before he got hard, or she wouldn't be able to get the cock cage on.

Rosalie could read the unspoken question in Edward's body language as he complied.

He jolted at the coldness when Rosalie poured a small amount of lube into her hand and coated his still-soft dick. It was tempting to play with it, tempting to watch it grow hard and demanding. There was a vulnerability aspect about fondling a man's soft cock that was great for asserting her authority. One good squeeze, just the right way, just too hard, was enough to bring tears to a sub's eyes…

But Rosalie didn't, not this time with Edward.

Instead, she began efficiently going about the rather long and bothersome process of placing all the different components of the cage around Edward's genitals.

For a few moments, Rosalie was afraid it wouldn't fit; was afraid that it was too small. She had ordered it for Edward's dick size, but had not made him wear it yet. Remembering the scene she had invented as an excuse to measure his dick, Rosalie smiled. That had been fun…

''May I?'' Edward's eyes were so so dark as his hands wrapped around hers that Rosalie swallowed hard. Talented fingers deftly worked with hers to get the pins aligned and pushed through the holes. Her sub bit at his lip and Rosalie could see his concentration. Edward was trying to remain relaxed and keep his cock flaccid, even as his heartbeat sped in excitement.

He was also considerably rougher with himself than Rosalie had been, tugging loose skin here and squashing it in there. And it worked; soon the cage was locked in place, a small brass padlock in the front.

''How do you feel?'' Rosalie was genuinely curious as to Edward's answer.

He'd expressed a wish to try one of the CB6000 line someday, one time they were talking and relaxing after a session. He hadn't known she'd ordered one yet…

Edward's green eyes were luminescent as he stared into her own, the earlier doubt erased by awe and what was possibly… tenderness?

''I… It'll take a bit of getting used to, but I feel pretty comfortable, considering.'' Edward jangled the plastic device, experimentally trying to touch himself and sliding a fingernail along one of the venting slits.

''Stand.''

Edward did, doing a weird little hip-rotating-thing that made the cock-cage and its contents jostle funnily.

Rosalie couldn't help a small giggle, which Edward answered with a soft smile.

''Any pinching or chaffing?''

Edward shook his head, no.

Rosalie smiled wickedly, ordering ''Watch.''

She gave him quite a show too. Throwing her head back, the blond cupped her purple-bra-wrapped breasts in her hands, pressing them together and creating interesting cleavage. She licked her fingers and pushed the cup down to pinch and swirl around a nipple, moaning a bit too loud at the sensation.

Edward's gaze raked her form hungrily.

Good.

Rosalie ran her hands up and down her skirt. She wanted to spread her legs, gain access to her pussy that quite frankly needed a little loving but she was hampered by her strict pencil skirt. She arched her back instead, noticing how warm her skin was as her hands roamed her torso. Rosalie's eyes fell shut in enjoyment of the sensation of soft touch, of trailing her fingers down her tight belly. Her long blond hair trickled over her shoulders, tickly soft and she tossed her head a bit to increase the feeling.

Edward's grunt made Rosalie's eyes open quickly.

She had nearly forgotten her spectator!

Edward's eyebrows were drawn together and he had a thumb hooked around the plastic ring encircling the base of his cock and balls.

His other hand was curled into a fist and Rosalie could read his discomfort in the squint of his eyes, the straight slash of his mouth.

Edward's voice was rough when he spoke. ''Um, yeah. So definitely some pinching and aching then.''

He cradled his contained package almost tenderly, and Rosalie could clearly see the reddened color of the flesh inside, the way his cock was bulging out the vents.

Moving to sit at the edge of the bed, Rosalie tugged her sub closer and swiped her tongue over the hard plastic; trying to suck Edward despite the device...

Edward gasped, then moaned pitifully, thrusting with his hips.

''Ow. Please, Mistress. Ow, _ow._'' Edward shifted his weight from one foot to the other, uncomfortable and twitchy. His face was pinched now, breath rapid and short; he was definitely in more pain than earlier.

Rosalie schooled her face to stern seriousness to hide a happy grin. ''No time. Get ready, you aren't dressed yet.''

Edward's jaw clenched in irritation, before relaxing into wry acquiescence.

''Yes Mistress.'' He answered mildly, pressing a hand flat against his lower belly and exhaling deeply.

Rosalie barely stopped herself from striking him, hard and fast. Edward was infuriating at times. That moment was EXACTLY what you had to watch out for, with Edward. He had managed to regain his self-control almost instantly despite his frustration.

It was what he'd done with his previous mistress, Angela. He'd learned the hard way that Rosalie didn't accept half-hearted pleas. But he would have to get away with it, for now.

There really wasn't time.

Besides, this wasn't the punishment he had coming, just the preamble to ensure they didn't get caught…

.

Minutes later, with Rosalie back in the bathroom to apply eye-liner, Edward called to her from the bedroom.

''Mi-mistress?'' The hesitant tone was so unusual for Edward that Rosalie immediately raced to the other room.

Edward's cut shoulders were hunched over, one hand curled under his balls. His face was a priceless mix of shock and humiliation. He forgot himself and looked straight into Rosalie's eyes, anxious and… blushing?

Rosalie hurried over to inspect him closer and immediately understood the problem.

''Mistress, I'm… I'm leaking?''

Dangling from Edward's cock cage was a shiny thread of viscous fluid.

And Edward looked so flustered and unsure Rosalie was swamped with amused fondness.

''It's pre-cum, love, surely you've seen some before?'' Rosalie carefully placed her curled hand beneath the jeweled string, collecting the shiny fluid in her palm.

Edward's free hand scrubbed at the hair at his nape, and he was bright red. ''Yes, yes of course… But I don't usually get very wet… And it just… came out! I'm not even that aroused anymore! And I looked down and there was this long drip…'' Edward moaned, staring at himself. ''Look, again…''

He cringed in embarrassment as another thick drift slowly slid towards the pee slit in the cage, then began to stretch towards the floor.

Edward's eyes were wide and mortified, as he whispered ''I can't stop it. I… There's nothing I can do. It just comes out like that…Like being incontinent…''

Rosalie waited, not wanting to laugh at Edward's discomfiture.

Sometimes, it was the smallest, most unexpected things that had the strongest effect on a sub's psyche…

She patiently collected the liquid in her palm, her pussy throbbing at the sight.

Finally, it seemed no more was forthcoming and Rose used her thumb to wipe any leftover precum from the pee-slit in the cock-cage.

''Clean up your mess.'' Rosalie's voice was kind as she brought her palm up to Edward's face.

His eyes darted about for a few hesitant seconds, before he docilely bowed his head to lap at the liquid.

A shudder ran through Rosalie. This was more like it. He was completely, _thoughtlessly,_ under her control.

His tongue on her palm caused a squirmy feeling, and she pulled it away before she giggled and broke the facade.

Rosalie kissed her sub then, slowly, reassuringly. She could still taste remnants of Edward on his own lips; fuck that was hot. She prolonged the kiss until Edward's breathing calmed, finishing with soft pecks along his sharp jaw line.

''Beautiful.'' The dominatrix whispered.

Edward was beautiful in the cockcage. How he helplessly leaked in thwarted arousal was beautiful. Edward was beautiful in his submission to her.

''Now get dressed.''

Rosalie critically observed their reflected image later before leaving.

Edward was simply splendid, tall and lean in black pants and a white shirt. He had placed a stylish grey hat on his head, tilted just so in naughty playfulness. It was a bold look, and Edward wore it well.

His collar was barely visible in the opening of his shirt, and the chastity cage made surprisingly little curve in the front of his slacks.

And Rosalie knew she was stunning as always, in her stern grey skirt and light pink blouse. There was an elaborate knot of silk ribbon at her throat, and she simply adored the puffed short sleeves.

Together, they made a striking couple. Rosalie was sure they would set gossipy tongues waggling in speculation, attending an event together. They had to be very careful not to repeat such appearances too often, or they would have to answer awkward questions concerning their relationship.

''Kneel.'' Rosalie made her voice snap, sharp as a whip.

Edward automatically dropped before her.

''You still haven't been punished properly for earlier.''

''I'll wear the cock-cage out, Mistress. I'll be good, I promise.'' Edward was eager to please.

Rosalie allowed herself a short, cruel laugh.

''That's not you're punishment, slave. It's to prevent your pee-pee from poking the mayor in the eye when you _are_ punished...''

Edward remained silent, radiating curiosity as she walked around him, stopping at his back.

He jumped in surprise when she ran her hands around his shirt collar, tracing along the rim of the leather hidden beneath.

One flick of her wrist, and the hat flew off, skidding along the floor.

Pressing on the back of Edward's head, Rosalie forced him to bend his neck forward, giving her access to the fastening in the back.

She slid the leather through the buckle, feeling Edward sag a bit in relief. She supposed he thought she had changed her mind…

His illusions were short-lived.

Rosalie gripped the smooth leather firmly, yanking it one hole further than the well-worn one she used normally and rapidly pushing the pin through.

Edward made a strange sound, close to a whimper and crumbled forward heavily, supporting himself on one arm. His other hand clutched frantically at the leather collar. He remained motionless like this, little whines escaping with his anxious breaths.

Moving around to his front, Rosalie leaned down and grabbed Edward hard under the chin, making him look into her face.

His eyes were so wide she could see white all around. Not good for public play. His pupils, however, were huge and black to the point only a small ring of green bordered them. Panic and desire and too many many emotions flitted through her sub's eyes, so fast she couldn't read them all.

''Five Minutes. You will attend Jasper's exposition for five minutes like this.''

Rosalie had been going to say fifteen, but she changed her plan upon seeing exactly how effective it was on Edward. Fuck, Rosalie wondered with a sinking feel in her stomach if Edward was even capable of riding the high for that long. She hid her doubts well, buried them deep, and allowed only confidence and cool expectation that he would obey shine from her eyes.

Edward's teeth were white and straight, sunk deep into his bottom lip. The involuntary sounds of terror still escaped from the back of his throat.

Rosalie had never seen Edward so completely undone, so quickly.

''Five minutes. Do you understand?''

Edward nodded, eyes glassy as he straightened a bit. The long fingers that had been pressed to the floor moved to cup his crotch.

''Edward. Answer me.'' Rosalie's voice was strong, demanding.

Edward licked his lips, visibly trying to calm himself. At least he stopped making noises of pure distress.

Finally, after too many heartbeats of waiting, Edward gathered himself enough to answer.

He cleared his throat, admitting in a low voice. ''Yes Mistress. I understand. Five minutes. At the gallery.''

Good. It was important that he could still speak. His voice was a tad hoarse, and he didn't wheeze as he breathed. Rosalie knew the collar wasn't really too tight, just tighter than was comfortable, but it was still reassuring to hear; Edward's breathlessness was mainly psychological.

''Can you stand?'' Rosalie mentally face-palmed herself. Fuck, that was not a Dominatrix tone, and it was also too questioning, showing her concern. Too late though.

Edward nodded slowly, closing his eyes and concentrating. He must have found some type of equilibrium, because when his eyes opened again, they were more focused.

He slowly unfolded, rising to his full height above Rosalie. His left hand still seized the collar so tightly his fingers blanched though.

Carefully, moving slowly, Rosalie pried his fingers one by one from their death-grip. Then she struggled with the top button of his shirt, the really tiny one that was stiff with disuse, until she had done it up.

Edward's fingertips rose to press against the crisp white cotton, where the leather was hidden. Understanding dawned in his eyes.

''Don't move.''

Rosalie disappeared into her walk-in closet. She rapidly found what she'd been looking for, then spent a few minutes just listening to the sound of Edward's breathing as it echoed in the silent room. Fuck, he was so close to losing it… She could tell, just from the changes in rhythm, how his control ebbed and flowed. Those light puffs were hardly natural, forced and too regular. That small choking sound… Not good. Now his breath was labored, raspy and uneven. Gradually it slowed and calmed again as he fought panic and arousal.

Rosalie clenched her thighs together hard at the dull ache in her groin. Her pussy was weeping now; it was a huge turn-on for the Dominatrix to see Edward struggling so hard. She yearned to tip the balance and overwhelm him completely, but forced herself to patience.

First, the gallery.

Sighing, Rosalie walked back into the room and knotted the green-and-silver tie into place.

''It looked strange, all buttoned up like that with no tie…'' She explained, smoothing his shirt over his broad shoulders. Fuck, again. She shouldn't have bothered to explain, she was the Mistress… She was making beginner mistakes, more affected by Edward's loss of composure than she cared to admit.

Edward nodded, a jerky movement.

''You will wear your collar like this on the way to the car, for practice.'' Rosalie tucked a strand of crazy hair behind his ear, retrieving her purse and leaving the room.

She caught a glimpse of Edward in the mirror behind her as he hesitated, then eventually followed her.

When they stood by her sleek red car, Rosalie reached up and with practiced fingers slid the buckle back into its usual hole.

Edward's chest-expanding sigh was so exaggerated it was almost comical. Rosalie dug through her purse as he watched curiously, pulling out a small key on a ring.

She placed it in Edward's hand, curling his fingers around it.

''Just to be safe… You never know.''

Edward stared blankly at her, until she slid a hand down his belly, digging it into the waist of his pants toward his trapped cock.

It was the key to the lock on the front of his chastity device. In fact, it was the second key, the first one being safely nestled between her breasts on a fine gold chain.

Rosalie wasn't actually trying to keep Edward in chastity. He had cum less than two hours ago. And she trusted him not to use the key unless it was an emergency. For this first time, it was better to be safe than sorry.

Besides, Edward had other, more important preoccupations than his restrained cock.

Such as surviving his punishment.

Five minutes.

At the gallery.

Choked.

Edward shuddered.

Five minutes for Rosalie.

* * *

_Well, well, on our way to the gallery then. Poor poor Edward. How will he take to his punishment?_

_Till then..._

_xxx_

_French Caresse_


	4. Scene 1: Chapter 4

_Hi again, my pervy friends! _

_Things are speeding up. I love pushing Edward to breaking point…And so does Rose!_

_And **ONLY MATURE READERS** PLEASE. Seriously. Respect the over-eighteen warning._

_And still **unbeta'd**, because I was too in a hurry to post. I know. I know. It would get me more readers if I waited, give me more exposure. But once a chapter is done, I have a really hard time waiting. So there you have it, only two days later._

_Deep breath while you can, let's see how it goes..._

* * *

RPOV

The car ride was quiet.

Rosalie concentrated on driving, letting Edward mull things over.

At long last, he spoke. This was not sub Eddie. It was carefully logic Edward.

''I'm not sure about tonight. I don't think I can wear the collar choking me for five minutes without breaking down. Especially not out in a crowded gallery.''

''I know you doubt.'' Rosalie didn't admit she did too. ''But I know you can do it. It's only five minutes, Edward. And it will help you, being in public. It will motivate you to try harder, not to get caught.''

Edward fell silent again, staring out the window.

He didn't speak anymore, deep in thought. He occasionally rubbed his palms along his thighs or tugged at his hair, frowning as the city flashed by.

Inside the gallery, Rosalie took her time. She waited until they had done the rounds, meeting and greeting everyone required. She and Edward got separated in the process and Rosalie savored the slow burn of anticipation.

Only after the speeches and mandatory toasts, once everyone began to spread out through the gallery, did Rosalie move back to Edward and slide her hand into his.

Fingers intertwined, Rosalie registered how hot and sweaty Edward's palm was. He followed her smoothly, face expressionless.

Finding a deserted, shadowy hallway was easy enough. The gallery occupied the first floor of an ancient convent. It was a maze of small rooms, pale rock walls and strategic spotlights placed to enhance the effect of the works of art.

''It is time.'' Rosalie's voice was soft, diffused by the thick walls.

Edward swallowed, eyes darting about. His knees made a sharp jerky movement, as he first began to kneel then decided to remain standing, torn.

''Stand. Turn around.'' Rosalie took the choice away from him. It was the least she could do. ''Undo your shirt collar.''

Edward's arms hung loose at his sides, and Rosalie regretted not being able to see his face. Suddenly, Edward made up his mind and roughly undid the first few buttons.

As he let his head loll forward, Rosalie gripped buckled black leather in perfect French-manicured nails and loosened it. She took a minute to run her fingertips through the short soft hair at his nape, watched a shiver wrack his shoulders at the sensation.

One last second, one last deep breath, and Rosalie yanked Edward's collar tight.

Edward made no sound, but his whole spine stiffened.

Rosalie carefully made him turn around. Her sub's eyes were closed, face stony.

Rosalie could barely imagine all the dark fantasies that might be running through his mind at the moment. It was rather amazing, how deeply Edward's asphyxiation kink ran.

Edward dropped his head to press his forehead hard to Rosalie's. Squaring her feet, she supported him despite her smaller stature. Moments passed, swelling to hours, to days, to infinity.

Edward gathered his strength, gathered Rosalie's strength.

Heavy-limbed and almost in trance, they stood forehead-to-forehead in the shadows.

Finally, Edward drew himself up to a straight-standing position. He seemed calm enough, but the little signs were there. He fiddled with the knot of his tie, long fingers graceful. His eyebrows drew down, eyes just a bit too wide. He jaw tensed, contradicting his softly parted lips. His hips tilted forward, curling towards Rosalie's fingers as she traced along the buttons of his shirt.

''Good boy.'' Rosalie allowed her approval to tint her words, let her satisfaction bring comfort to Edward. Pressing her palm to his cheek in wordless encouragement, she added. ''Five minutes. Time starts when you walk into the gallery itself.''

Then she walked away, very aware of how her hips swayed with every step in her tight skirt and strappy heels as Edward's gaze burned after her from the darkness.

Only when she was out of sight, just inside the doorway to the next room, did the blond Domme allow herself to sag a bit in relief. Pressing shaky hands to her burning cheeks, Rosalie took a few deep breaths. Ignoring her aching breasts, she opened her cute clutch-bag; just a quick peek to reassure herself.

Nestled in the satiny fabric was a pair of heavy-duty cutting pliers she had placed there when she had gone to fetch the collar for Edward.

They were quite able to slice through leather if she needed to remove it quickly; Rosalie had ruined a perfectly good collar just to be sure.

Of course Edward didn't know about her safety-net.

SHE was his safety-net.

It was a bit scary. And probably what Edward enjoyed so much about their relationship. He gave himself over to her, no questions asked. But there was a price to that precious trust. She could count only on herself to get them out of any mishap.

Hence the perfectly unfeminine and ugly tool hidden in her sparkly pink purse.

Rapidly regaining her cool confident facade, Rosalie returned to the room adjacent to where Edward still hesitated in the shadows.

Now where should she stand…

It wouldn't do to be openly staring into the dark arc through which Edward would appear…

Rosalie glanced about, wincing a bit at what passed as art. What had been wrong with impressionism? Rosalie hardly thought that this modern conceptual stuff was an advancement in Art's evolution.

Shaking her head, Rosalie concentrated on finding the best position for herself. It was important. Edward would need to see her when he came out, but she mustn't appear anxious to see him.

Perfect! Right across the room was a huge sculpture-thing, shiny aluminum. Reflected in its boxy side was the exact area she wanted to watch.

Time stretched again, until Rosalie began to doubt Edward would come out.

It was a mercy when he finally did, flushed and walking slowly.

Five minutes, starting now.

* * *

EPOV

The first few seconds after Edward finally entered the gallery, he almost expected a horde of accusing journalists or flashing neon signs to point to him.

PERVERT! They would scream. So, as Edward walked out, he curled into himself, uncertain and tense.

He worried for nothing: the room was empty, except for Rosalie facing the opposite way.

Edward's face warmed at the sight of her; too many mixed feelings slowly boiling in his chest.

Edward thoughtlessly tried to take a deep breath to calm himself and was brutally reminded of the collar strangling him.

Fuck!

_Can'tbreathecan'tbreathecan'tbreathe!_

His cock pounded with useless blood at the sensation of the tight band around his throat.

Rapidly turning to face the wall, Edward worked to gather his control. Just before he turned around completely, his eyes locked for a second with Rosalie's across the room. How wished it was her hands, candy-red nails digging into his skin, that restrained his airway instead of cold leather!

Edward pushed the thought away, swallowed down all the other scenarios the lusty beast inside him craved.

Not now, not here!

Clutching the silky knot of tie convulsively did absolutely nothing to relieve the pressure hidden beneath.

Five minutes.

For Rosalie.

The thought centered Edward again, enough that he made his way to the nearest painting, pushing his hands deep into his pockets.

God, his trapped dick called!

His abs tensed involuntarily and Edward could feel the whole plastic device jolt.

Breathing carefully, Edward slowly found his balance again. No-one else was in the room. He could stay there if he wanted, and he would have fulfilled Rosalie's condition.

Dr Cullen, however, was not one to pick the easy way.

What was the fun of that? Part of Edward wanted the challenge, wanted to make Rosalie proud, wanted more than playing safe. Rosalie had been right about him. As usual.

So he carefully made his way to the next room.

Deserted.

And so was the next.

This wasn't so bad! Edward glanced at his watch. Two and a half minutes.

He could do it!

He would do it!

Five minutes. For Rosalie.

The next room held a few people; a couple was holding hands by the far wall and a blond man stared at a sculpture, hands in his pockets.

Edward held his breath instinctively, hovering in the doorway. Bad idea. He was getting lightheaded, and when he tried to suck in a deep breath, the collar hindered him again. It suddenly seemed even larger, even tighter.

_Can't breathe can't breathe can't breathe._

Panic that he had pushed to the back of his mind surged intensely.

_Can't breathecan'tbreathe can't breathe in A ROOM FULL OF PEOPLE! Can they see? Do they know? What if they can tell?_

Possible consequences of being caught twisted with the physical discomfort, a volatile mix that bubbled and threatened to explode. Edward's instincts yelled for him to retreat back to the safety of the empty room behind him. where Rosalie's footsteps clacked.

Too late! The blond man had seen him, sapphire eyes narrowed in Edward's direction.

Edward hyperventilated, he knew it because the room swam before his eyes and his ears rang. He waved away a waiter as a tray of tall golden flutes of champagne danced before him. Fuck no, he couldn't possibly swallow a drink like this.

God, he was hot. Edward swiped the sweat from his eyes with shaky hands, dizzy.

His heart pounded in his chest; surely it could be heard from the next room!

Edward maintained enough awareness of his surroundings to make his unsteady way to the far wall, as far away from the other people as he could. Blindly facing a painting, he worked to calm himself.

Slow and careful.

His breath rasping loud in his ears, Edward swallowed the sounds of terror that were building in his throat. He felt as though he might impode any second.

Slooooowww.

Innnn and Ouuuuutt.

Don't. Don't imagine a dark gloved hand grabbing you from behind, pressing against your nose and mouth while you struggle ineffectively...

As the pounding in his ears diminished, Edward squinted at his watch.

He was almost done. Less than a minute and he would be released. Edward could feel the wetness at his dickhead. The chastity device was hard to ignore, the constant tension distracting.

Glancing over his shoulder, Edward spotted Rosalie coming into the room.

His heart swelled with pride; close to bursting with longing, with loving affection!

He'd done it!

Five minutes, for his mistress!

Then he noticed the blond man was moving too. In fact, he was heading Edward's way! The couple from earlier was gone.

Fuck!

A sharp panicked gasp and Edward realized exactly how deep in trouble he was.

A large part of him screamed for Edward to run away; to flee from the room before he actually had to be a few feet from someone in his current predicament. This was the instinctive part of him, the one that wanted to claw at his collar and tug the CB6000 off. This was the part of him that needed to be submitted by Rosalie.

A small hard of nugget of consciousness, however, counseled against such erratic behavior.

He didn't know who this man was. Maybe he would have to see him again and he didn't want to have to explain his actions later. Doing something brash would just raise suspicion and attract attention.

This logical corner gradually fought and subdued the tangled instincts of the larger part. The best way to react was to remain in place and hope the man would leave soon.

And then it was too late and the man was right beside him, watching the painting Edward had been posted unseeing in front of. He was a handsome man, with golden hair and startling blue eyes, as Edward had already noticed. He was slim, but he looked sturdy and muscular, wearing dark blue jeans and a checkered shirt.

Edward observed him quietly, to distract himself from the unrelenting torment. He took in strong hands with square-cut nails. The man was perfectly groomed, yet somehow his features remained a bit rugged.

Not like his other blond friend, Carlisle, who was so pale and so sharp that he seemed aristocratic, almost elvish.

No.

This man's good looks were down-to-earth; warm golden beautiful. Edward felt there was something a bit untamed in this man, a spring-into-action kind of danger. Edward imagined in the old days he would have been a cowboy.

''Like what you see?''

FUCK! Edward had been so busy memorizing every inch of the stranger to distract himself he had caused him to initiate conversation!

The logical part of Edward was pleased to hear a hint of southern drawl in the softly gruff tone. He'd been spot-on with his barely-civilized cowboy comparison.

But the rest of him was stirred into a jumbled panic. Edward wasn't sure he could even speak like this, with the collar. _Can'tbreathecan'tbreathecan'tbreathe._

Through necessity, the small controlled part imposed itself.

Edward sent the man what he hoped was a questioning look; anyway, he raised an eyebrow and croaked as he tried to concentrate enough to answer. Had the stranger just come on to him, asking if he liked his body?

''What do you think?'' The man seemed amused at Edward's trouble, indicating the painting with his head.

Oh.

Edward was most relieved he wasn't being come onto… by a man, with his Domme across the room while he was locked into chastity.

Edward managed a smile, he hoped, and he knew his cheeks were flushed.

One last difficult swallow, a small whistling breath and Edward pushed himself to answer.

''It's very…'' Fuck! Edward knew nothing about art, and he'd barely even seen the painting, he was so flustered.

''… brown.'' He finished lamely in a tight voice.

The man barked a sharp laugh, head thrown back and teeth glistening. He raked long fingers through his golden curls, observing Edward with sparkling eyes. Edward was rather worried because seeing the long column of the man's neck and the underside of his sharp jaw, had made the cock-cage twitch.

''Brown. _Cityscape #5B_ is brown... That's actually a pretty good description, quite profound if you think about it. Shades mixing together, light and dark. All the colours muddled into one, mood created only by subtle color variations. Just… the whole creative process, all the worrying, the careful planning of composition and the sleepless nights…all to create something… brown. ''

The man chuckled again, shaking his head.

Edward stared at him, wide-eyed as realization dawned with the man's comment. Fuck. This was_… J Whitlock._ The one who had MADE the abstract paintings!

And Edward had just told him his work was… brown.

Licking his dry lips, Edward wished he had taken that flute of sparkly.

''You're Jasper?'' Fuck, he was way too breathless, yet more useless adrenaline making his heart pound and his hands shake. '' I'm sorry… I didn't mean… I just…''

How did he repair this? Edward couldn't just say ''I didn't even look at the painting, I was too turned on by the collar choking me now, oh and by the way I enjoy getting leashed by beautiful women'' could he? Incapable of thinking up a smooth way to explain away his comment, in the end Edward simply admitted the truth, staring at his shoes.

''I don't know shit about art… okay? And I've had a long day.'' God was that the truth. His back still bore the marks of his afternoon session. ''I'm sorry, just don't listen to me, okay?''

Jasper remained silent, until Edward looked up at him through his lashes. His expression was unreadable, but he nodded and smiled. ''Well, at least that's honest. And who are you, my not-art-knowledgeable friend?''

''Edward.'' He answered automatically. ''Edward Cullen.''

Jasper stuck his hand out and they shook. Edward had to bite his lip to control a moan at the surprising rush of arousal that slithered around his hips. Jasper's palm was warm and strong as he held Edward's hand. A bit too strong, and it created a sudden power play.

Edward was surprised to realize he wanted to kneel at Jasper's feet, a sudden flash of proper sub position that he resisted. This was worrying because it had never happened before from a simple handshake, and _never_ with a man.

This was not the place! Pushing the instinct away, Edward pressed back with his fingers, straightening his back. He was Dr Cullen. It was because of the unfortunate situation that his imagination was running away with him.

Jasper stepped back, hooking a thumb into his pocket. Somehow, he seemed dangerous now, coiled intensity beckoning. His eyes flashed but his voice was soft and friendly as he asked. ''And what brings you to my opening night, Edward?''

''Rosalie.'' Edward croaked, too overwhelmed to formulate a more elaborate response. His dick was leaking again, he was sure, crying to be soothed. The collar hurt his neck and now he was getting sexual submissive urges towards a man he'd never met before. Fucking hell.

Jasper was quiet, watching Edward as he teetered on the edge of control. It was almost as if he _knew_.

Jasper's chest rose and fell faster now, and his wide-legged stance, camped on his left leg, was extremely powerful. Maybe that was why Edward's mind was going crazy. The way Jasper's long fingers angled down from his pocket, framing his cock, unconsciously screamed dominance.

Fuck, his fingers framing his…

Jasper was aroused. Edward could clearly see the hard line in Jasper's jeans.

Fuck.

Edward ducked his head, trying to erase the image that burned into him. Jasper was really fucking hard. It made Edward's trapped dick hurt, just seeing Jasper's clothed erection. His own pants-front was disturbingly flat. Fucking cock-cage.

And somehow, the situation just reinforced Jasper as the dominant in his mind, even if they were hardly being sexual together.

In fact, neither of them was moving.

They weren't even talking.

Yet energy boiled between them, potential…

Intensity that tugged at Edward's control. He'd been poised on the edge for too long. He could feel the cracks beginning to split, internal pressure forcing the civilized veneer apart.

Fuck.

Edward didn't know what was about to happen.

But _something_ was.

It _had_ to.

Edward couldn't bear it anymore.

And he was dangerously nearing the point where he didn't care what others might see.

* * *

RPOV

Oh crap.

Rosalie's insides had frozen when Jasper had smoothly approached Edward. Damn damn damn fucking HELL! What had she been thinking?

What were the chances that HE would actually be in the same room as Edward for those fatal five minutes?

And then, of course, Jasper had been instantly attracted to her poor helpless sub... Like a shark smelling a wounded surfer. Although Rosalie wasn't exactly certain how much of that was chance and how much was Jasper's freaky aptitude at sniffing out the faintest trace of submission in a man.

Rosalie didn't think they knew each other. Edward was very shy about going out to events, and the few he chose to attend… Well, obviously the homosexual scenes weren't exactly his preference!

Jasper was quite possibly Rosalie's equivalent; in the_ gay_ D/s underworld. And she had delivered a hopelessly aroused and nearly out-of-control toy right into his waiting arms.

_Her_ toy.

_Her Edward._

Rosalie watched from afar as Jasper charmed Edward, making him laugh, then flounder cutely, all flustered and red-faced.

Thank God Edward was staring at the floor, or he might have run screaming from Jasper's hungry gaze.

Even from across the room, Rosalie could sense how the play between the two men was growing. Jasper was on his best behavior; this was his opening night after all! But Rosalie could see how he strained to remain relaxed and friendly. Instinct was pulling at him, relentless.

It was all Edward's fault, although he wasn't aware of it. Rosalie's heart swelled with pride at how well he was doing, how he managed to maintain a civilized exterior despite his distress.

Five minutes was over. More than over. And while she had observed from the other side of the room at first, Rosalie decided to intervene when Jasper licked his plump lips, hungrily eyeing Edward.

Edward was HER boy. She didn't share, and especially not with a man.

An unbidden rush of heat submerged her at the thought of Jasper playing with Edward, while she watched from a corner.

Great.

More complications.

Rosalie didn't _usually _share.

She'd have to tread carefully, have a serious talk with Edward about the possibility of including Jasper for a night.

The other Dom was going to ask for it, Rosalie could see it written clear as day on his expressive features. And he would be right to request it. SHE was the one who had brought Edward, and punished him DURING JASPER'S OPENING NIGHT. It could easily be mistaken as an invitation. She'd thoughtlessly overstepped her boundaries. Jasper was now fucking aroused the one night he needed to maintain a calm professional appearance.

But that was a worry for later.

The immediate priority was to rescue Edward. Before either he or Jasper did something everyone would regret.

Like kiss.

Or worse.

As Rosalie hurried toward the men, her normally confident stride was shaken. And for the first time in many many years, Rosalie wobbled on her sky-high heels and wrenched her ankle hard. The following loss of balance was noisy and shuffly enough that two pairs of eyes stared at her when she found her footing. Green and blue, both equally startled, both burning up.

Jasper was the first to recover, cool amusement bordering on condescension hooding his eyes. Edward simply looked relieved to see her.

Wordlessly, Rosalie extended a hand and Edward gratefully folded their fingers together.

As they began to walk away, Jasper caught Rosalie's eye and raised an eyebrow.

Rosalie understood the implied question, but didn't have time to respond. Edward's burning palm in hers, desperate fingers clenching tight tight tight were her current priority.

_Later_. She thought-spoke. _Soon. Speak to me after I've taken care of Edward_. Rosalie hoped her eyes transmitted the message clearly enough. Apparently they did because Jasper mouthed what was almost certainly: ''Have fun'' before palming his dick once, ruefully, then turning away to head for the next room.

It was mere minutes later that Edward and Rosalie stood in what now felt like their own private hallway.

Only this time, Edward wasn't calmly compliant. He had begun making small whimpering noises halfway to their corner and Rosalie could feel the shudders that ran through him.

He had simply used up all his will-power with Jasper and was on a downward spiral, out of control.

The instant his collar was loosened, Edward clung to Rosalie like a many-armed octopus.

''Please _oh_ please. Mistress. Please_ please_ please.'' His whispered pleading was halting and desperate, gasping moans breaking up the words. ''Please let me cum. _Oh God!_ Rose. Please_ please_. I can't... Oh my God…please let me cum!''

Edward's begging accompanied a firm humping into her side. Rosalie _knew_ that the let-down was in his mind. He couldn't cum with the cock-cage. In fact, he wasn't even hard.

But still… hearing Edward beg shamelessly wound the spring of lust tighter and tighter inside Rosalie.

''Ros-_hah-_leee_._ Please… please…_ argh!'_' Edward's breath was hot in her neck, his arms tight around her rib-cage. Hard plastic rhythmically pressed into the side of her thigh, a cock so desperately seeking unattainable friction.

The combined sensations overwhelmed Rosalie.

Groaning, she realized she was going to cum; without even a touch to her throbbing center.

Like a wave, the orgasm gathered itself deep deep inside, churning in her belly. Her knees went weak and her ears rang. As pleasure began to swirl and constrict, focusing in her budding clit, Rosalie gasped and fought to remain standing. Edward's strong biceps around her clung tighter, hot words of encouragement spilling into her ear.

With a shiver and a gasp, Rosalie clutched Edward to her and let the pleasure surge in timeless contractions of aching-release.

It was a bittersweet orgasm, clawing her apart from the inside.

Satisfying, and yet not.

It opened a deep dark chasm of need, a raging yearning to be filled.

As Rosalie came down from her release, breath shot in hard puffs through her nose. She could feel her wetness, slick evidence overflowing her silky scrap of underwear and moistening her thighs. God, she hoped Edward-and others- couldn't _smell_ it!

Pushing a strand of damp hair away from her flushed cheek, Rosalie took a careful step away from Edward. God, she needed him to fuck her, immediately, right there in the shadowy hall.

As her scattered thoughts focused, Rosalie sadly abandoned the idea. There was no practical way to get around her tight, knee-length skirt. It was impossible to just flip up and anyway, there was also the cock-cage to contend with. Her pussy pulsated in primal protest.

Finally able to focus her blurry vision, Rosalie peaked at Edward. His eyes were dark and hidden in shadow, regarding her with stormy intensity.

''Thank you Mistress.'' Edward's voice was rough, the words vibrating and heartfelt.

Rosalie nodded tiredly.

''Let's go home.''

Edward nodded, surprisingly mellow considering he was as yet unsatisfied.

Almost as though her orgasm had drained the tension from him too, leaving a dull need behind. Unless it was the begging that had been his overflow valve…

A quick stop at the washroom was necessary, where Rosalie fixed a smudge in her make-up and threw her disgusting squelchy underwear away. There was nothing she could do about her too-bright eyes and the red splashed down her neck.

Edward was sure they had forgotten some important people as they rapidly shook a few hands and circulated through the main room. They would have to attribute it to the myriad of small nooks in the place.

God, Edward was ready for release.

He felt as drained as he did after an intense, physically painful session.

The chastity device had served its purpose; Edward had to admit Rosalie had chosen well. There was no way he could have kept his hands away from his dick without that smooth plastic controlling it. Judging by how his entire groin throbbed repeatedly during the whole ordeal- still did in fact- Edward would have been relentlessly hard. The kind of erection that REQUIRED a touch, it was so sensitive.

Which he couldn't do in such a public place. Even their shadowed embrace had been risky, although they had both remained fully dressed.

Edward felt an almost awed affection for Rose. She had cum; hands-free!

Edward didn't know she had the capability to do that.

He suspected maybe she didn't know, either…

As Edward distractedly nodded and hummed at all the mundane bla-bla an overweight woman- he thought she was an author, or maybe a singer –gushed at him, he glimpsed Rosalie's reflection in a mirror. She was having an intense discussion with the blond man from earlier.

He looked almost angry, whispering in her ear. Rosalie's straight back was to Edward, her blond hair glinting as she nodded, then shook her head. Her gold wristwatch flashed when she… exchanged business cards with Jasper?

Then Edward was dragged into a hug that smelled surprisingly of cookies and baked sugar. By the time he managed to extract himself from the squash of pillowy boobs, Rosalie was walking towards her.

Jasper waved from afar, thank god, then he blew Edward a kiss and winked.

Fucking hell.

Jasper had blown him a kiss.

There was no doubt he was flirting with Edward now!

Then Rosalie was there and he stupidly followed her, thoughts uselessly swirling because that single teasing gesture had created a response in Edward's belly.

Warmth, and was that… curiosity?

Fuck, Edward would have to think that over.

Later.

For now, they were going back to Rosalie's.

A small bubble of elation rose in Edward's chest.

He'd done it!

Five minutes.

For his Rosalie.

* * *

_Whew. Done. Sorry for the long chapter, it was just too intense to split up._

_NOW FOR THE MOST IMPORTANT WARNING. This is fantasy. Rosalie is a smart mistress and so should you. **BREATH PLAY IS DANGEROUS**. Like, fatally dangerous. People have died. Which is why Rosalie didn't really choke Edward, even if he wanted her to. Like I said, smart. _

_If this is a kink that calls to you, I know how seductive it can be. Better play with the psychological danger aspect of it than risk your life. Do your research. People who die from breath-play don't actually die from suffocation. They suffer fatal heart arythmia. So know your limits, and your sub's limits and **ALWAYS PLAY SAFE.**_

_One more chapter left, for now. Should be up next week-end._

_xxx_

_French Caresse _


	5. Scene 1 : Chapter 5

_So, this was meant to be a one-shot and wrap up here. More on that later..._

_This story is for **Mature** readers only. Only** over-18** readers. And NSFW. duh._

_Still unbeta'd, by the way... _

* * *

EPOV

The car ride home was dark and quiet, comfortable. A subdued victorious feeling floated between them; shared pride at having accomplished their mission.

When they arrived at Rosalie's house, the Domme ordered Edward to strip and wait in the entryway before disappearing in the direction of her bedroom.

The front hallway was a small, clean space. A table lamp in the living room cast a golden glow from Edward's left, drawing dark blocks of shadow across the walls.

It was a huge relief to feel the slither-tugging of the tie pulling free, the soft brush of fingertips as Edward undid his hard little shirt buttons.

Edward couldn't help but run a finger under the collar, feeling the sensitive skin beneath. It was maybe a bit chaffed, perhaps a slight bit reddened. Edward gulped, remembering, and wished, a ferocious burning hope, that his neck was bruised and purple instead.

He knew Rosalie never would, of course. She took care never to endanger him even as she toyed with his body until he was a sweaty quivering mess. It was why Edward needed her, so much more than she could ever guess. Left to himself, he would eventually cave and do something reckless.

Edward pushed the need for MORE down, struggling to fit it back into its tight box, confined by rationality.

Eventually, the weight lifted from his chest. The feral ugly need to hurt, to fight for air until he blacked out was kicked back under the bed –for now.

The unnatural ache no longer suffocated him, seeping from his pores until he itched with the need to have it tortured out of him. Lashings, spankings, clothespins all temporarily soothed the darkness. But it was still there, was always there; a tightly coiled knot of insecurities and remorse and the need to be punished for his failings because he deserved it.

It was a scary thing to have inside, and Edward had long been afraid of it.

Adult Edward had accepted it, could even partly explain it.

Puberty had torn Edward apart, innocent and confused. His strict religious upbringing and rigid parents had clashed with raging hormones, driving young Edward to coil into himself, trying to stifle the devilish urge to self-pleasure and hoping no-one realized how corrupted by sin he was.

Only in the darkness of the night, when he woke desperate and hurting and so so hard he just couldn't, _couldn't _help it did he give in.

Masturbating roughly to half-formed fantasies of being kidnapped, taken and tortured for his beastly nature. Holding his breath to keep the sounds in, hoping his parents wouldn't hear him and realize how depraved and _wrong_ their son was. Twisting in his bed, nails digging into his clammy skin, needing to whimper and scream at the acute intensity, teenage Edward held his breath with all the ferocious determination he applied to his schoolwork- until his lungs screamed and his chest convulsed and spots danced in his vision. Until the coiling of pleasure was too much and he erupted hot and _wrong_ over his fist; how sweet that deep cleansing breath was, after the evil need was satisfied.

As he matured, Edward eventually learned he was not alone, that everyone had these needs. He experimented, fumbling kisses that tasted of orange pop with a pretty girl in his science club.

It was luck, or destiny, or fate maybe, that he had been hired to mow the lawn for his neighbor that last carefree summer after high school. Miss Esme was beautiful, confident, and much older than he'd been.

Somehow lemonade had led to a summer-long relationship. Edward knew he'd been manipulated, but he couldn't find it in his heart to begrudge her. She had taught her young eager lover so much…

Even if he supposed he'd been too young, legally, their relationship had been fully consensual. He'd wanted her, so badly. Had spent endless hours daydreaming of her ripe breasts and golden hair spilling on the pillow.

She had filled his afternoons with pleasurable lessons, had given him the gift of confidence. In a way, Edward was sure she had saved him. She had shown him that sex wasn't wrong, had taught him how to please a woman. With her, the sexual urges were transformed; beautiful golden natural.

He'd grown that summer, so so much. Most of the self-hate had evaporated, pumped between her creamy thighs and sprayed over her plump ass.

But Edward's first experiences had formed the knot of his sexuality. Even if he knew it didn't have to be wrong and dark, he couldn't completely outgrow those feelings. They lingered inside, and sometimes in the blackest night Edward couldn't contain them.

Years later, and Angela has shown him there was no need to ignore the need to be controlled, no need to be ashamed. Edward had grown from his relationship with Angela too; she had accompanied his first steps into the world of D/s.

And then he'd reunited with Rosalie and finally, finally, Edward found balance.

Rosalie...

Fuck!

Rosalie!

Quickly, Edward's pants pooled at his feet and he folded them over the back of a chair, adding his shirt and tie to the pile.

The air felt cool against the soft skin of his belly, breezing gently from an open window.

Edward savored the relief of being naked, the anticipation such a simple action caused.

He had spent so much time reminiscing that Rosalie's steps sounded in the hall and he was still standing!

Jolting to his knees, Edward winced at the wood floor knocking into his bony knee cap. He hurried to push his arms together behind his back, feeling the familiar pull at the front of his shoulders. He straightened his back, keeping his head down and feeling how the position caused his hips to tilt forward.

Suddenly, the cock cage filled his thoughts.

He focused on the tight press of plastic, the absence of touch so distractin. The urge to tug his engorged balls was strong, making Edward chew on his lip to suppress the action.

God, how he wanted.

And just like that, with the snap of high heels on wood floors, Edward was swamped again; drowning with need and emotion and frustration, back in submissive mode.

Rosalie was naked but for her stylish silver shoes, and Edward kept his gaze focused on the toes despite the itch to stare at her face.

Edward trembled slightly, wracked with too much arousal. God, Rosalie had better tie him up because the second his cock was released…

''Rise.''

Rosalie's voice was sweet to Edward's ears. The proud ringing in it was worth everything.

A quick clink and a metal chain clicked into place. Rosalie tugged Edward up by it, pulled taut in a fist a short foot away from his neck. She made him stand uncomfortably on tiptoe, stretched upward. The collar shifted up his throat, pressing over his adam's apple, pulling against the underside of his jawbone.

After a few seconds in the uncomfortable position, Rosalie let the chain sag and Edward gratefully rested the balls of his feet back on the hard floor.

He hissed, unable to stop the reflex jerk of surprise when the chain suddenly dropped down his back, dangling slinky and ice-cold over his shoulder and between his butt-cheeks.

Rosalie watched the slow blush that already stained Edward's cheek bones, the way his eyes were wide and his whole body was coiled. He was overreacting to the smallest stimuli, delightfully worked up.

Blowing a trail of air down his chest, Rosalie was rewarded in the way his biceps strained, arms still clasped at the small of his back.

Good boy.

When she replaced the air with her wet tongue, trailing towards the plastic that curved out from his crotch, Edward grunted through clenched teeth, a sound blending pleasure and pain.

So close.

So responsive.

Rosalie kneeled before her sub, eye-level with his trapped cock. Edward watched her through the slit of his eyes, heavy lashed and half-closed.

Confidently, Rose inserted the key on its gold chain into the lock and carefully freed Edward's dick.

''Haaaahh.'' A shaky sigh of relief, of need escaped Edward.

Rosalie shuddered; all those little spontaneous sounds were so unlike Edward...

He was hers in that minute, completely; hers to do with as she pleased.

And what she craved was not more Dom/sub play. Her orgasm in the dark room and Edward's desperation had tired her out. Part of Rosalie was drained and crying for comfort.

In need of reassurance.

In need of love.

She rose slowly and tugged gently on Edward's leash, noting how his eyes closed at the slithery feel of the links when she pulled it over his shoulder.

He walked on silent feet behind her clicking heels, unquestioning even when she bypassed her dungeon door and following obediently to her bedroom.

Then, before entering her own sanctuary and lit by the slanting light of a streetlamp outside, Rosalie turned and spoke huskily.

''I want you Edward.''

''Yes Mis-''

Rosalie placed a slim finger over Edward's lips, silencing him.

Her long hair swished as she shook her head.

''No. Tonight, I need _you,_ Edward. Just you.''

Then she reached confident hands, stoking along his neck and removing the collar.

It fell to the floor with a jangle, the heavy chain coiling after.

Edward's heart stopped beating in suspense, then fluttered too fast as realization sank in.

Wordlessly, Rosalie backed into her bedroom and sat on the edge of her bed.

Letting him decide.

Edward gazed at her, barely visible in the quiet night.

Then he shook his head, running a hand through his thick hair and something sank in Rosalie's stomach.

He didn't want her.

Not just as a lover. He wanted Mistress Rose

She began to gather her strength, tired though she was. She could do it.

For Edward.

It was better than nothing.

He deserved it.

Lord did he deserve it.

Then Edward was before her, his male spice standing out in a room that had absorbed the scent of flowery female perfume.

He sank to his knees and slowly removed her shoes.

Her ankle throbbed from when she'd twisted it, and she was so tired…

Then Edward was standing before her, hard cock squashed sideways when he bent over to kiss her softly.

A gentle press of lips.

Then another, more insistent.

Rosalie inhaled, and Edward's tongue invaded her. Growing stronger, confident and powerful, Edward plundered her mouth.

Breath whistled through their noses and Rosalie groaned at the rightness of it.

Yes.

This was what they needed tonight.

No sub and Mistress.

Just lovers.

Edward and Rosalie.

Equals.

The sex was carnal and straight to the point. After all the build-up and the emotional roller-coaster, it was perfect.

Edward pushed Rosalie over until she scooted up the bed and lay on her back.

One more kiss, sloppy and rather desperate, and their bodies tangled.

Then Edward rolled into position between her thighs and in one smooth motion they were joined.

Rosalie gasped and arched, surprised to find the stirrings of another orgasm already despite her previous one and the lack of proper preliminaries.

Edward shuddered and groaned, lashing along her neck with his tongue.

And then, in that instinctive timeless motion from the dawn of humanity, Edward fucked Rosalie; he fucked her deep and even and steady.

She twisted beneath him, pliant and willing.

No complicated schemes, no pretense.

Edward and Rosalie.

As he picked up the pace, Edward watched Rosalie's breasts jiggled by his motions. He realized distractedly that they had never done this before. Never in all their play had they used the missionary position.

As he rutted forcefully, feeling all the frustration in the world circling in his hips, Edward thought he should slow down, should prolong the pleasure, should make Rose cum

But he couldn't.

Couldn't bring himself to still his movements, couldn't bear to stop the friction and the hungry dance of writhing flesh.

It was impossible.

Timeless.

Rosalie and Edward.

He dropped to his forearms, pressing their bodies together, rolling his hips and groaning at the intensity of the pleasure on his finally freed cock.

If he'd been sub Edward, Rosalie would have certainly stopped him, slapped him, teased him. Maybe made him cry in frustration.

But not tonight.

Tonight she encouraged him, clutching at Edward just as desperately as he needed contact.

If he had been sub Edward, he wouldn't have dared cum before his mistress. But tonight, there was no stopping it. The primal wave curled up his spine and Edward paused unsteadily, a strained ''Rose…'' escaping his tense lips.

He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from screaming at the immense coiling of orgasm that wrapped around the base of his cock.

''Rose!'' He gasped; a plea this time, helpless, searching.

''Cum, Edward. Cum for me baby!'' Rosalie's voice was rough and passionate.

Edward pulled her to him, spearing deep and grunting as he came forcefully inside her already wet pussy. His strokes faltered, jerky and irregular in time to the throes of release. As he began to come down, he recognized the way her nails dug into his shoulders, the restless trashing of her head.

Grinding his teeth at pleasure so sensitive it was almost pain, Edward continued to stroke into her, deep hard sloppy thrusts.

Thankfully, it took only a few before Rosalie convulsed beneath him, her clenching pussy making Edward shudder in sensation overload.

Maybe the world stopped spinning for a few seconds. It certainly felt like it to the couple locked together on Rosalie's bed. And when it started it up again, it was with lazy, unhurried time.

Edward eventually worried he was crushing Rosalie under his weight and he rolled over to his side, sweaty and trembling. Rosalie's eyes were open, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Her fingertips reached to trace innocent circles on Edward's goose-bumped torso.

Something had changed, that night.

The tilting of the world had been the shift in their relationship. It was undefined for now. But they could both feel it, the somewhat impersonal part of power-play shattered, fragile hearts glimpsed.

There were no words, in that moment.

Words were strong.

Words were powerful.

Words could change everything.

Words could make or break them.

So instead of speaking, Edward gathered Rosalie close. And Rose tugged the covers up around them. And after a time of sharing warmth, each lost in their thoughts, sleep caught up to them.

A moonbeam gilded the couple, melted together on the big bed.

It continued its path across the vast expanse of soft carpet.

Then it slanted into the hallway, shining on a silver chain and the shadowed darkness of a discarded collar.

Edward had done it.

Five minutes for Rosalie.

* * *

_Now to clear up a last thing: Will this story continue? It was supposed to end here. But Jasper wants in, and Rose is not opposed. _

_For now, I am going to finish Headward first. It's my New Year's resolution. After Headward is done, we'll see. So keep this story on alert, just in case._

_Oh, and for some shameless self-pimpage for a smaller fandom. I got back into writing with a slashy oneshot for a challenge. A very different Rise of the Guardians/ X men crossover. It was tons of fun to write. It can easily read as PWP. And it's very slashy. I mean, have you seen Wolverine's claws? _

_xxx_

_French Caresse_


End file.
